


Where You Lead

by Moonheart13



Series: Alternate Universes [6]
Category: South Park
Genre: Additional tags will be added as story progresses, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23319634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonheart13/pseuds/Moonheart13
Summary: In which Gregory is a young star of the stage and decides to take a sabbatical.
Relationships: Christophe "The Mole"/Gregory of Yardale
Series: Alternate Universes [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1238636
Kudos: 16





	Where You Lead

“Mr. Chambers, when will you be performing next?”

_ Flash. _

“Mr. Gregory Chambers, there’s talk of your last performance possibly being nominated for a Tony! Do you have any comment?”

_ Click. _

“Mister Gregory, you were spotted with a young man at lunch yesterday; could this be a new romance?”

_ Snap. _

Gregory straightened his sunglasses as he attempted to push through the crowd of cameramen and reporters. He could barely get into the theater and knew he had to say something. He turned around on the steps, calling out, “I’ll be performing as soon as I can, I hope that show receives its Tony, and no, I’m not currently seeing anyone, that man was my brother-in-law.”

More questions and the snapping of pictures erupted, but he’d done enough for today. He pulled himself through the crowd as his bodyguard, Damien, stayed loyally at his side, keeping him from being grabbed. One hand was firmly on Gregory shoulder while the other was held up and out as a sign to stay away.

Finally, he was in the theater, Damien shutting the doors firmly behind them. The two headed down the hallway into the main lobby, Gregory collapsing in a heap on one of the nearby benches.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he mumbled, taking his sunglasses off and running a hand through his hair.

“I think some of them are following you,” Damien replied. “Keeping tabs on your location, so to speak.”

“They run after me like dogs,” Gregory growled. “I can’t even walk down the street. This is just as bad as what happened at Christmas!”

“At least you could stay in the safety of your own home.”

“Now I can’t even go to work!” Gregory cried out, rubbing his forehead. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He sighed, taking a few minutes for himself. “What am I doing here again today, Damien?”

“You’re reading over Mr. Pirrup’s script.”

Gregory’s spirits seemed to lift at that. “Oh, splendid. Where is it?”

“He said he would leave it in Stage 3 for you.”

Gregory was soon up and heading for the room, Damien calmly trailing him. They entered a large theater room, Gregory quick to maneuver through the right doorway and rush through the seats. He found a redheaded young man sitting in the front row, typing consistently into a laptop. Once Gregory was standing in front of him, he recognized the man as Phillip’s personal secretary.

“Herbert, how are you?” he asked, hopping down to the last step to shake his hand.

Herbert Pocket smiled good-naturedly, returning the handshake. “Brilliant, mate! Glad to see you here.”

“I ran into a bit of traffic on the way,” Gregory drawled.

“Oh, yes. They’ve been there all morning,” Pocket replied sympathetically.

Gregory sighed. “Anyway. I was told there was a script?”

Pocket produced a rather thick set of papers from his bag, handing it over. “Phillip said there’s bound to be quite a lot of re-write’s, but he wanted you to receive first look.”

Gregory grinned, taking a seat on the main stage and began to read, briefly watching as Damien made himself comfortable in a seat near Pocket.

This was the time he appreciated the most. Spending time in an old fashioned theater, taking a gander at his best friend’s new ideas, and not feeling like he was about to collapse.

Well, maybe that last part was still a little present.

A long while later, he heard a voice call out, “Gregory?”

Looking up from the script, a bright smile spread across his face. “Phillip! My friend, where on earth have you been?” He hopped down from the edge of the stage he’d seated himself on, rushing over to the other man.

The two embraced, patting each other on their respective backs. Upon pulling away, Pip answered, “Sorry, mate, I’ve just been so busy with the new play and then I was called to Chicago for this huge meeting and—” He cut himself off. “It’s a long, long story and I really don’t want to get into it right now.”

Gregory waved his hand. “No worries. How about we take a seat, eh? I’ve been reading over this script and I  _ adore _ it.”

Pip followed him over to one of the rows of seats (passing by a half-asleep Damien and a focused Pocket), replying, “You do? And you’re not just saying that, right? I was worried it was too much like my first one, you know? With the huge monologue about control in the final act and especially the setting being in Manchester…”

“No, no, no,” Gregory shook his head wildly, “I love it! I barely saw any similarity until you mentioned it just now. The dialogue is bloody brilliant and I can’t wait to see who you got to play Beth. I got extremely choked up at her argument with her sister.” As he spoke, he gestured excitedly with his hands, flipping through his copy of the script. “Oh! And, I have a million questions about Hugo.”

Pip gave a hard laugh at Gregory’s rapid speech. “I had a feeling you would. When I wrote him, I kept picturing you in mind.”

Gregory let out a high-pitched noise of joy, clutching the stack of paper against his chest. “Really?!”

“Really,” Pip insisted, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I had a feeling you would like him a lot.”

“I do, I do!” Gregory exclaimed. “Oh, and I met with the cast members of the current production last week and they are fantastic! The blond girl—Ms. Stevens, is that her name?—she is delightful! And that one bloke playing George? I can’t stop laughing! He’s a hoot!”

“Bebe Stevens worked as an understudy in my last production and I’ve been dying to give her a larger role,” Pip replied. “And yes, that’s Jimmy. I met him at a comedy club last year. He told me he really has a passion for acting, but no one would give him a chance because of his ‘condition’.”

“Oh, because of—oh, that’s ridiculous!” Gregory huffed.

“Agreed! I can’t wait for opening night,” Phillip stated proudly. Then, he checked his watch, letting out a sharp intake of breath. “Shite. I’m afraid I can’t talk long. My props man is coming in here in a few minutes.”

“Is he new?” Gregory asked.

“Nope. I’ve worked with him on a few shows already and he’s extremely dedicated to his work.”

Then, the doors in the back opened. From his seat, Gregory could see the man standing in the doorway.

Gregory felt his heart leap in his throat.

“Christophe,” Pip said, standing up and walking over to the man. The two exchanged a proper handshake before Pip spoke again, gesturing to Gregory. “Oh, this is my friend, Gregory Chambers.”

Gregory stood, ignoring the wobbling of his knees. “Hello,” he managed, holding out a hand to the man.

The man’s eyes, a dark hue of green, briefly looked him up and down. Gregory could feel the judgment in his gaze. Then, the man only gave a nod to him.

Gregory’s hand dropped to his side as Pip continued, “Gregory has been my friend for a long time and he will be playing one of the lead roles for this production!”

The man only gave another nod and a grunt. Then, he was heading down the aisle without a second glance.

“He’s a man of very few words,” Phillip explained. “But he gets the job done, so I have no complaint!”

“Uh-huh…” Gregory mumbled to himself, watching as the man walked off.

“You alright, mate?”

“Huh? Oh! Yes, of course! Umm…what were we discussing before?”

“I’m afraid whatever it was will have to wait,” Phillip said, patting his shoulder. “But you’re welcome to stay! I’ll hopefully be done discussing my props with him in an hour.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind staying…” Gregory replied distractedly.

“Great!” Phillip clapped his hands together, looking pleased. “How about you make whatever notes you’d like in your copy—good or bad—and we can talk about them after Christophe and I are finished?”

Gregory nodded vaguely, still watching as the man hopped up onto the stage, placing a toolbox down and opening the other box up, revealing paintbrushes and pencils. “Yeah. Alright.”

***

Time seemed to move slow as Gregory watched the two on stage. Phillip and Christophe had sat on the ground, the director explaining to him what each scene would look like and the props man making diligent notes. Christophe squeezed bits of paint out from tubes, placing it along a spare bit of cardboard, quietly showing Pip the differences between the colors, wanting clarification on the director’s preference.

Gregory felt a tap on his shoulder.

He glanced up, seeing Damien’s blank face. “Have you made your notes yet?”

“Notes?” Gregory looked down at his lap, then at the unused pen in his hand. “Oh, goodness…”

He opened the screenplay up, clicking the pen to life as he began to scribble. Damien took a seat next to him and Gregory could feel his eyes on him. “Something you wanted?”

“I am concerned,” Damien stated.

“About?”

“Your life.”

Gregory paused in his work, looking back up. “Excuse me?”

“Your private life has become nonexistent,” Damien said. “Everyone knows where you are at all times, what projects you’re working on--” He gestured with his hands. “You’re tired. I can see it.”

The pen clicked a few times as Gregory’s thumb pressed down repeatedly. “It’s just how it sometimes is in this business--”

“Gregory, that is untrue. You deserve a break.”

The blond felt his jaw clench. “But how? How could I do that? Even if I wanted to?”

“Travel somewhere remote. Quiet. Rest your body and soul. There’s plenty of places out there that don’t know your name. No offense.”

“None taken,” Gregory replied absentmindedly, thinking his words over. He  _ did _ need a break. Just some time away from the city, the cameras, the lack of privacy. And after this last production, he didn’t necessarily have another project lined up. At least nothing he couldn’t get out of or postpone.

He glanced down, seeing Pocket still typing furiously on his computer just a few rows below. Ah, perfect. Pocket was a master of location. He could find people, places, and anything you requested in a flash. If Gregory didn’t know any better, he’d think the man was part of the CIA.

He leaned down, giving his shoulder a tap. “Hey, mate?”

Pocket’s head turned. “Hm?”

“Listen, is there any place that you know of that’s quiet? Perhaps a nice vacation spot? But not touristy?”

“Hmm...oh!” Pocket took his phone out, pressing the buttons furiously. “I’m sending you an address as we speak. It's a lovely, sleepy little town. A few farms, pleasant townspeople. Phillip and I have spent quite a bit of time there. He likes to go there and write.”

“Thanks, Herbert!” Gregory said, seeing his phone screen light up. He didn’t recognize the name, but that only gave him more hope. And if Phillip got work done there, perhaps it would be good for him as well.

He pulled back, looking at Damien. “After this show here. I’ll take that break.”

Damien nodded. “Good.”

“You know, if I end up enjoying my break too much, you might be out of a job,” Gregory teased, elbowing him slightly.

“After being your bodyguard for three years now, sir, I think I could get a position anywhere.”

“...okay, good point.”

***

“Oh, my God, you guys!” Bebe squealed, rushing down the aisle with glee. “I’ve never seen a theater this big! It’s so cute!”

“Ay, Pippy, how many can this place hold at once?” David asked, leaning up against one of the chairs. 

“About five thousand!” Phillip replied from his spot on the stage.

“C-c-c-can you repeat that?” Jimmy called back from his spot on the upper deck.

“Five thousand!” Phillip yelled louder.

“We have so much room to work up here, we could work on three scenes at once,” Wendy stated, walking along the stage. “Hey, Gregory! Have you ever worked in a theater this big before?”

From his spot in the front row, Gregory called back, eyes fixed on his laptop, “Only once in Miami. Everyone ended up getting sick because it was flu season and the venue was overly crowded.”

Everyone simultaneously paused in their efforts, all glancing at Gregory. The blond finally looked up, sensing the silence before giving a nervous laugh. “O-Oh, but it was fine! Short flu, you know…”

People hesitantly resumed their conversations and Gregory awkwardly went back to his laptop. He clicked out of his current tab after finding very limited information on the town Pocket had given to him. 

It was called West Commons, which was a pretty bland name in Gregory’s opinion, but then again, he supposed the blander, the better. After all, there was hardly any information on the damn place, except for Google Maps. Even then, all he was given was a few pictures and random street names. Based on the evidence, it didn’t seem in the middle of nowhere, but it was definitely a small town.

“Greg?”

Gregory glanced up, spotting Wendy who was now on the ground in front of him. “Hm? Something you wanted?”

“Is everything okay?” she asked, taking a seat beside him.

“What? I’m fine,” Gregory claimed, immediately shutting his laptop. Perhaps a little too quickly. 

Wendy definitely noticed. “You seem jumpy. I’m not trying to get all up in your business or anything--”

“No, no,” Gregory replied, “You’re fine. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Are you worried about the play?” Wendy asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, no, of course not. Philly knows what he’s doing.”

“Okay…” Wendy replied, leaning back in her chair and idly watching Bebe do a little tap dance on the stage.

Gregory had worked on and off with Wendy over the last few years. And in that time, he’d come to consider her a friend. He knew she wasn’t the gossiping type so there shouldn’t be a reason to not tell her…

“I’m taking a vacation after this production.”

Wendy glanced back at him, a smile spreading across her face. “That’s great! Where will you be staying?”

“A little town,” Gregory replied, glancing down at his closed laptop. “Somewhere where I won’t get mobbed by people all the time. It’s...pretty annoying.”

“I think that’s a good choice for you.” Wendy tilted her head to the side. “Are you embarrassed to say you’re taking a break?”

“I dunno...it feels a little silly to complain about being swarmed by fans and the press. ‘Oh, look at me, I’m a star and it’s so hard’,” Gregory pretended to cry out.

Wendy gave a chuckle. “It still has to be hard. And I’ve seen all those articles about you. The media definitely likes to focus on you.”

“I’m not even that interesting!” Gregory exclaimed.

“That’s a matter of opinion. But even if you were, it makes sense. You’re handsome--yes, you are, don’t try correcting me--and talented enough that if you don’t have a lot going on in your personal life, they can fabricate whatever they want.”

“...I know you majored in journalism, but it’s moments like this that I realize you could have been one of those people out there,” Gregory said.

“Mhm. You count your lucky stars that I turned to the theater,” Wendy replied in a sickly sweet voice as she patted his cheek. “And seriously, don’t feel bad about taking a break. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Gregory rubbed his cheek, giving her a grateful smile. “Me too…”

“Come on, everyone,” Pip announced, clapping his hands together. “It’s time to get to work! I’d like to do a full run-through! No costumes, just positioning and lines!”

“Guess that’s us,” Gregory commented as he and Wendy stood up, making their way up the stage steps.

**Author's Note:**

> The actor au that nobody asked for.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it!


End file.
